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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26697454">How the story of Mieczyslaw 'Stiles' Stilinski ended.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaru_no_mori/pseuds/Hotaru_no_mori'>Hotaru_no_mori</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Doctor Who, Doctor Who &amp; Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005), Teen Wolf (TV), teen wolf - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dreams and Nightmares, Family Feels, Father-Son Relationship, Fobwatch (Doctor Who), Fobwatched Doctor (Doctor Who), Fobwatched Time Lord, Frustrated Scott, Gen, Identity Issues, Memories, Mental Instability, Misunderstandings, No Incest, Nogitsune (Teen Wolf) is a Little Shit, Pocket Watches, Stiles Stilinski Needs a Hug, Stiles Stilinski is the Doctor, Stiles has doubts about the issue, Worried Scott McCall (Teen Wolf)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 05:14:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,713</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26697454</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hotaru_no_mori/pseuds/Hotaru_no_mori</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is how the story of Stiles Stilinski ended. By opening a fob watch. (Jodie aint the 13th Doctor)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sheriff Stilinski &amp; Stiles Stilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>64</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The beginning of the story</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This story starts years before Stiles ended up having his best friend turned into a werewolf. It started before he even met and befriended a human Scott. </p><p>No this story starts in the year 1995 when a nameless child is found outside the doorstep of Noah and Claudia Stilinski. A young boy, barely over a year old who had nothing on his person exept the clothes off his back and an old, battered fob watch. </p><p>This little boy getting found is where the story starts, but not where the journey began. Still this is his story. The story of the name he lost, the identity he lost and the identity he gained due to the kindness of the people that found him.  The story of «Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski». This is the story of how he regained his identity and along with it memories of his true name, his true title. The title of The Doctor. </p><p>Authors note: Let’s just see how this goes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Let’s just see how this goes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Property of Stiles Stilinski</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles has owned a lot of stuff over the years. From essential things like clothes to knick-knacks like toys and similar. At the moment out of all the things he owns he would probably call his blue CJ5 Jeep «Roscoe» his most priced possesion. Although that is true it is not the one thing he has had on his person since the dawn of his existance. No that spot goes to an old, broken, fob watch.</p><p>It is not really something Stiles thinks about alot, but he always ends up putting it in his pocket or back pack when he leaves the house. Never really out of reach, but not in use either. Just there. It wasn’t something he had use for, it just felt natural for it to be near. No use or help at all, or so he tought…</p><p>The point still stood that out of all the things Stiles owned, this old and broken fob watch was the one that always had been qualified as the property of Stiles Stilinski. From the dawn of his existance to the dusk, maybe that’s why he always carried it around. And sometimes he could swear he could hear a voice…<br/>
«Ti*e Lo**d. O**n it. R****se me»</p><p>«Balinski!» Stiles snapped his head up from the fob watch in his hand to an angry coach Finstock He hurriedly put the watch back in his jeans pocket and tried to look as casual as possible before asking<br/>
«Uh, what’s up coach?». Previous toughts about the watch he has owned all his life vanishing in the process of getting chewed out by a pissed off lacrosse coach for not paying attention. In economics.</p><p>Still have no idea how he got the job. Stiles mused in the back of his head while trying to juggle paying attention with trying to stay awake and thougts of what he should try mixing wolfsbane and mountain ash with next. Water? Already done that. Milk? Maybe, no real use, except maybe poisoning. Vinegar? That could work. It is an aceti… Oh. How about mixing wolfsbane and mountain ash? That would be interesting to see the result of... Man, I want some curly fries right now. Damn it i'm getting derailed. Maybe i should go cross-reference with Deaton. SHIT NOT AGAIN! Stiles gets ripped out of his thougts when he realizes hes the only person in the room. Also, he can’t read what’s on the blackboard.</p><p>Well, shit. Another day, another fucked up hallucination to screw with his sanity.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is set in season 3 while Stiles is getting possessed by the nogitsune. In case anyone was wondering.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Nightmare of Stiles Stilinski.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Things has never been easy for Stiles. What with being looked at as a loser at school, having ADHD and losing his mom. Not to mention that constant, nagging feeling of waiting that just WOULDN'T GO AWAY! No matter how long he waited.</p><p>But it got to a whole other level the second Scott got bitten. That’s not to say he did not enjoy the supernatural world, but at the same time he was always the weak link in the group dynamic. What with being a fragile human and all that shit. Still, he liked the adrenalin rushing through his veins, he liked solving mysteries, he liked helping Scott figure out the supernatural world, he liked saving people and stopping the bad guys. It helped managing the antsy-ness that Stiles has had growing in him since early childhood. If only a little.</p><p>Now though, the negatives have started piling, drowning the shrinking pile of positives in the process. </p><p>Stiles starts to think them through while driving home from school after, what do you know another hallucination freak-out due to that Bardo thingamajig. According to Scotts newest ladylove Kira anyway. </p><p>For one my best bud is being kind of a douche bag now and again and the rate of the times he ignores me has gone up massively. I know he has it tough with the whole werewolf situation and all, but still… (Arrogant little human).</p><p>And there’s the fact that I’m always excluded from pack stuff. Am I even a part of the pack or is that another thing that poor, fragile, human, Stiles with the weaker senses and all that shit cannot be a part of? (Damn stupid, canine apes). Why do I even bother?</p><p>Not to mention my biggest fucking problem. THE FRIGGIN NIGHTMARES AND HALLUCINATIONS!!! I used to have good dreams god-dammit.<br/>
They were scary and heartbreaking sometimes, but they were mostly amazing even if i never remember jack-shit when I wake up. Now I just feel like I’m losing my mind, maybe I am going crazy. Yup I’m starting to go totally cray-cray. I can’t even read anymore. I even have some weird thoughts creeping in the back of my mind. Sanity is soon a no-go for one Stiles Stilinski. </p><p>This train of thought is going in circles in his head when he finally reaches home. He clumsily opens the door to his jeep, trying not to fall while stumbling into the house and trying to just breathe. Easier said than done. The panic attack that is building up is not easy to curb. Especially when he is trying not to cry at the same time. He ends up just sitting at his bedroom floor feeling the sadness, loneliness, fright and altogether brokenness setting itself deeply in his chest.</p><p>He just wanted the current nightmare that was his life to stop.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I got nothing specific to say. Just hope whoever’s reading this don’t hate it. It was made due to me being bored, not to offend anyone.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The father of Stiles Stilinski</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After struggling under the seemingly endless feelings of fright and despair for awhile, he manages to reel them back. Analyzing the problems piece by piece until it didn’t seem like such a totally hopeless shitfest of a situation as it felt like. </p><p>Clutching with all his might on to the lights in the darkness. To just somehow hold it at arm’s length. He was good at that. Breathing in deeply while getting shakenly up from the floor, putting on the mask of bravado in the process and started on with his daily routine of cleaning around the house and making dinner for when his dad came home.</p><p>Hey don’t judge, somebody has to do it and it sure as hell wasn’t gonna be his dad with that workaholic attitude he had going on. Another thing he wasn’t sure went in the good or bad category by the way, namely his dad knowing about the whole werewolfy- hunter-kanima-and-all-that-other-supernatural-bullshit.</p><p>Supernatural, psh I’d really like some actual scientific data on how some of this crazy ass shit works. That would make it so much easier to accept than just saying it’s ‘magic’ and be done with it. (It’s not bloody magic for Rassilons sake, it’s psychic energy!).</p><p>Stopping up in his pursuit of ingredients of dinner to just stop up and ponder on where the hell some of those weird ass thoughts were coming from, before giving up soon after and shrugging the off. He had bigger problems to think about than a little voice in his head going on about random shit at random times. </p><p>Backtracking to what he was trying to think about before his train of thought decided to switch over to an all-terrain vehicle (fucking ADHD). Specifically, if it was a good or bad thing that his dad knew about the fucked-up shit that was the supernatural world.</p><p>Yes, he called the supernatural world fucked up. So, what? It’s true. He wouldn’t deny that it was all flavors of awesome in some ways, but that was more for the ones that actually had a membership in one of the supernatural cliques. </p><p>For the ones that were just ordinary-non-hunter humans? Not so much. Stiles has lost count of all the times where he got his ass kicked due to being in the crossfire between Scott and whoever was his enemy at the time. It also did not help the case that Scott has rarely, if ever acknowledged, shown gratefulness and responded in kind to all the messed-up shit he had gone trough in the name of helping his best bud since Scott got bitten.</p><p>GAH, he got off track again! Hitting his head against the fridge in frustration (and considering taking yet another Adderall pill) he took out the sauce and minced meat he was gonna use for the spaghetti sauce. (Yes, he decided on spaghetti for dinner it’s easy to make, delicious, not too low on the health scale and due to the fact that he was not a gourmet chef, good enough. If you don’t like it then deal with it, you aint the one eating it.)</p><p>Resuming his train of thought to the right track after a little struggle. On one hand Stiles was happy that he did not have to hide a part of his life that was only getting bigger, that his dad were aware of a looming danger and in some situations it’s good to have the sheriff’s help to cover up whatever supernatural mumbo-jumbo that has shown up in Beacon-Hills. That is a very spot on name too, this little town in California is a total beacon for the supernatural… </p><p>Anyway, on the other hand, the problem is that a lot of the freaky monsters n’ demons or whatever the hell is out there is lethal in some form or another. The thought of his dad ending up dead in a ditch with his windpipe torn out or any other type of ghastly and gory death cause he got mixed up in something freaky did not sit right with him. At all.</p><p>“Son, I’m home”. Rousing from his thoughts Stiles called back. “I’m in the kitchen dad! Dinner is almost done, so just get your ass in here”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah I’m coming. Just give me a second to take off my shoes. What’s for dinner by the way? You better not have experimented with those godforsaken vegetables again. I’m a cop not a goddamn rabbit.”</p><p>Coming out of the kitchen after setting the table Stiles couldn’t help himself saying “Well too bad for you dad, cause I thought the perfect meal would be asparagus with tomatoes, onions and then covered in a cold macaroni sauce.”</p><p>Eying Stiles critically with just a hint of real fear of what awaited him at the dinner table and then raising his finger pointedly at Stiles the Sheriff couldn’t stop himself from saying “You better be joking or I swear to god…” Stiles couldn’t stop the grin splitting his face like a chesshire cat, all worries fading into the background.</p><p>Getting more unnerved by the smile and starting to have small seeds of doubts sprouting in the process the sheriff that is his son’s evil smile. The problem is that he can’t decide if he’s smiling cause he managed to unnerve him or if he actually has made something that sounds so totally and utterly disgusting.</p><p>“Stiles…”</p><p>“Bwahahaha!”</p><p>Stiles can’t hold back the laughter, breaking the tension at the same time. After a few moments he manages to gasp out.</p><p>“Nah, I’m just kidding dad. Oh god, you should have seen your face. Come on, we’re having spaghetti with a meat sauce”</p><p>Feeling the relief flood in Noah sends a playful scowl at his son before smiling and following him into the kitchen.</p><p>His son. Noah has seen him as such for so long, and he had no plans of stopping.</p><p>I don’t care that he is not mine biologically. In all the ways that matters he is my kid. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Longest chapter so far. I like the relationship Stiles has with his father in the series. I’m going to try not to mess anything up too much in that category.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. The frustration of Stiles Stilinski</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eating dinner was a loud affair with laughter, jokes and various sarcastic remarks thrown around between mouthfuls of spaghetti. Stiles ended up retreating to his room with a much lighter heart, although nothing actually had been fixed. Just the fact that he had been reminded that he had someone to keep going for.</p><p>But it wouldn’t last. Laying in his bed later that night he was struggling with his conflicting thoughts of needing to sleep (To stay alive damn it!) and not wanting to sleep (Fucking nightmares!). In the end he just decided to shove the whole god damn train of thought in a black hole in his head and try to think of something completely different. Grasping at straws as to what the heck he could use to distract himself he ended up absentmindedly grabbing his fob watch from the nightstand. </p><p>Oh! That’s right. I was thinking of this earlier. Why the hell did I forget so quickly? Eh, got a lot of stuff going on at the moment, so. Not that weird really. Anyway, where did I even get this? And, when I think about it. How come I can’t remember anyone commenting on it like, EVER? This ain’t exactly something a lot of people walk around with nowadays. No one except oldtimers anyway. And, WHY THE HELL DID I FORGET THE WHOLE MYSTERIOUS VOICE FROM THE GREAT BEYOND THINGY THAT I HEAR FROM THE WATCH NOW AND AGAIN? </p><p>Either I’m hallucinating AGAIN, not exactly something unusual for me nowadays (Got that bloody right) OR, or I have yet another string to weave into the gordian knot of supernatural thingamajigs that my life consists of nowadays. Well ain’t that just TYPICAL. </p><p>Stiles thought, before sighing deeply and trying not to throw the damn thing at the wall before screaming like Lydia in banshee-mode. Trying to think of SOMETHING positive before he went down the same dark pit of despair he had ended up in earlier today. Or is it yesterday now? Looking at the clock for confirmation of his suspicion he could only say silently to himself.</p><p>“Yup, imma be a zombie at school tomorrow. Well, at least it’s Friday”</p><p>That sounded slightly off. Stiles had a nagging feeling that he was forgetting something, but with how tapped out he felt he did not have the energy to pursue the stray thought, Eh, Probably nothing important.</p><p>Looking over at the clock that now read 03:23. Stiles resigned himself to try to at least get SOME sleep despite the god forsaken nightmares-of-Stiles’s-sanity-destruction. Trying to convince himself that it was better than dying of sleep depravity. It was kind of sad that the only arguments as to why that his tired aching head could muster as to why it was better was.</p><p>Dad would be crushed if he lost me, he needs me. </p><p>And.</p><p>Scott would be sad too, I think. I haven’t fallen so low on his priority list that he wouldn’t mourn if I was dead have I? I don’t even know anymore. His pack of pals is more HIS than mine, so I seriously don’t think they would care that much. I’m just the tag along human anyway. GOD, I feel pathetic.</p><p>Sighing deeply for the umpteenth time that night he tried to just think of something random and simple to try and turn the freight train that was his mind off. It helped somewhat and he finally drifted off into a restless slumber. Fully expecting to either wake up screaming, crying or at least panicking.</p><p>And what do you know. It happened. All of it. </p><p>At. The. Same. TIME.</p><p>Fuck my life.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hope I didn’t go too dark and depressing. Anyway hope you didn’t find this a total waste of time to read.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Plan of Stiles Stilinski</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After an awakening that can be compared to the body movements of someone getting hit by a taser at full power or a full-blown seizure. Plus, the wailing, banshee like scream and the tears running down his face like a never-ending waterfall. Stiles has had an ‘spectacular’ day so far. If you did not catch the sarcasm in the earlier statement you have either not fully developed your brain yet, or you are simply a moron. It’s a toss-up between the two.</p><p>After taking a moment to amass some energy in the hollow shell of a body Stiles is currently inhabiting. He got up to go to the bathroom and try to wash away some of the horrors that haunts his psyche night after night. Thoughts going back to his pocket watch in the process of washing off the sweat and tears. </p><p>How on earth had he not noticed the fucking weird ass stuff going on with something he has carried around for like, FOREVER? Also, if it had some magic voodoo shit going on with it that made people not notice it or, whatever… </p><p>Why did it stop working now of all times? Cause it really seemed like it had stopped working. It was like there was a veil or some shit around it till now (Man that sounds so god damn cliché) that has suddenly been lifted. Was it even something bad with it? What if whatever the fuck is going on with his weird ass watch was something good. </p><p>“Can’t really get that much worse anyway”, was Stiles muttered conclusion to his way too serious shower thoughts. </p><p>Also, the conclusion of his shower all together.</p><p>Stepping out of the cleansing warm water with a little brighter of a disposition and at least not that many depressed thought circling around like a freight train in his head. Stiles is at least somewhat ready to take on a new day and fight back what he fears is a breakdown he can’t recover from.</p><p>“Ready for a new day and all that jazz”, was the words slipping out almost sarcastically from his mouth while getting dressed and getting his school shit together in preparation for school.</p><p>“Son, what are you doing?”, was the first words he heard from his father dearest this lovely morning.</p><p>“Preparing for a trip to the moon. What does it look like I’m doing?”, Stiles said in his usual sarcastic manner. </p><p>Looking up from his backpack with an inquiring look saying, what the hell are you on my case for. In the process.</p><p>“Son… You do know that it’s Saturday? You don’t have school today.”, said the sheriff in a mixture of exasperation, laughter and underneath it all, just a little worry for his son.</p><p>“Oh… Well now I feel foolish. Dearie me, what is a poor, young, forgetful chap to do when he can’t even hold the endless passage of time straight in it’s measurements of seven days, twenty-four hours and so on.”, Stiles said dramatically while putting on a slight British accent to add a bit of flair to his lament and cover up his embarrassment and relief in the process.</p><p>Embarrassment over the obvious reasons, that he forgot what day it is in his mushy and woozy head that were crying for the sweet oblivion that were sleep without disturbances.<br/>
Relief because, oh-thank-the-lord-he-did-not-have-to-leave-the-house-today! He really wasn’t looking forward to having to put on a mask of normalcy for his so called ‘friends’ and the rest of the god-dammed school. Wasn’t looking to be ignored either.</p><p>After his dad laughed a little at his response he just said, “Well the ‘poor, young chap’ should maybe invest in a calendar. Anyhow, I’ll be on my way to the station in a sec. Something you want to say before I go or anything you want me to get on my way back?”, looking imploringly at his son awaiting some form of answer.</p><p>“Can’t think of much really. Just try not to get killed on the job, get something somewhat healthy for lunch, not donuts or fast food!”, Stiles said accusingly with a pointed finger at his somewhat sheepish father.</p><p>“Oh! And remember to get in contact with me or another member of Scott’s pack if you run into anything supernatural. And, that’s it for the farewell speech I’m afraid.”, Stiles said while clapping his hands together once at the last part.</p><p>Noah was about to turn away form his son before getting stopped with a hand on his shoulder and the words, </p><p>“One last thing.”, being the last thing, he heard before he got a somewhat awkward hug from his son.</p><p>Pulling away with a smile Noah says tenderly to his child that he has watched grow up so much since the day he first laid eyes on him. A child that just barely had the ability to walk that was all alone with no one to keep him safe and loved. To the young man that was standing in front of him now.</p><p>“See you soon kiddo”, scowling playfully at him for calling him kiddo did nothing except making the smile on the sheriff’s face widen before he left.</p><p>Stiles was fully prepared to take this opportunity to do whatever the hell he wanted and maybe try to figure out what was up with his pocket watch.</p><p>But in that exact moment he had figured out his plans for the day. His phone started ringing.</p><p>Oh my god! Can I never catch a break?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I got nothing to say… Um, hope you find this entertaining?</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Stiles is catching on</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Taking a moment to expel at least some of the burning frustration threatening to collapse him from the inside before he answered the phone in opposition to the strong urge to scream at whoever it was that decided to bother him helped somewhat. Checking his phone informed him that it was Scott that was calling. Taking a deep breath and exhaling heavily, Stiles answered the phone.</p><p>“Hi, you have reached the Stilinkis morgue and funeral services. How may I assist you with your death on this glorious day?”</p><p>Was the opening credits to his more morbid brand of sarcasm Stiles decided to use to air out at least some of the negative emotions he was carrying around lately.</p><p>On the other line Scott responded to his sarcasm with some laughter and saying,</p><p>“Dude, nobody’s dying on my watch. Your services in the art of funerals are not needed if I can help it.”</p><p>Hearing that he wasn’t needed, even if it was part of a joke. Made him get a heavy feeling in his chest. Despite the logical part of his brain saying that it was nothing to get upset about.</p><p>“Well thats too bad. Anyway, what’s up buddy?”</p><p>Stiles said with a somewhat false cheer to mask the unreasonable feelings that was creeping in on him.</p><p>“Nothing much, just wondering if you were okay? You seemed a little bit off yesterday and you haven’t really said much about what ever the hell you got going on with the Bardo stuff Kira talked about during lunch yesterday.”</p><p>Felling the nasty feelings of abandonment creep away in favor of a warm feeling of happiness in the light of that his best friend still cared about his well being. Stiles let a little smile creep up on his face and answered.</p><p>“Eh, just some night terrors and hallucinations. Makes me loose some sleep in a not fun sort of way, but it won’t kill me. Thanks for worrying though. Anything else you wanted to talk about buddy?”<br/>
Trying to gloss over his problems and redirect the conversation did not go as hoped for Stiles.</p><p>“Dude, that still sounds pretty bad. Have you tried sleeping pills or something?”</p><p>Sighing heavily and resigning himself to a heavy conversation that probably was in due time anyway. Picking up his fob watch again and running his fingers over it. Stiles responded,</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve tried the sleepy pills. No bloody way am I trying that again.”</p><p>Hearing a pause on the other line, Scott said after a little while slowly.</p><p>“Dude, why are you talking in an English accent?”</p><p>Freezing up for a second Stiles responded to the inquiry with a very intelligent.</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>He had no clue as to why he did that. Only that he didn’t do it on purpose and that it didn’t feel forced. Looking at the watch and getting a vague idea.  He decided to think about it later and respond to Scott’s slight worry.</p><p>“Dude, I don’t know. Guess I’m just in the mood to sound British today. No need to get your knickers in a twist.”</p><p>Scott sounded confused asking.</p><p>“What was that last part again?”</p><p>Trying to hide his snickers, Stiles said.</p><p>“Just a British expression buddy. Anyway, was there anything else you wanted?”</p><p>“Not really. There’s a pack meeting tonight though. Not sure if you wanna join since it’s more like a midnight run for those that are werewolves in the pack.”</p><p>Feeling the sense of abandonment and exclusion come crashing back Stiles held back a sigh and the tears starting to form in the corners of his eyes. Trying to make his voice sound normal Stiles said.</p><p>“Eh, I’m good. I didn’t really sleep that great last night so I kinda just wanna stay home and relax today anyway. Wanna hang out and watch a movie or something tomorrow instead?”</p><p>Answering with a wince Scott said.</p><p>“Sorry, I’m kinda hanging out with Isaac tomorrow and my mom and I have also made some plans. Wanna find something to do together after school on Monday instead?”<br/>
With the feeling of getting lower and lower down on his best friend’s priority list reestablished Stiles responded with a simple,</p><p>“That’s cool. Bye buddy.”</p><p>Before he hung up.</p><p>Chastising himself on his over emotional responses to things lately Stiles felt completely tapped out and it wasn’t even nine o’clock yet. </p><p>Damn, Scott gets up early lately. Must be another of his goddamn werewolf boosts or whatever. Anyway, what is actually up with me lately. I’m as emotional as a hormonal teenage girl on her period for crying out loud. It’s goddamn pathetic. And why is my watch trying to turn me British of all things? (OI!) And there is that extra voice in my head again… Eh, whatever. It aint killing nobody. </p><p>Stiles thought before making himself comfortable on his bed. Ignoring the vague voice of a long forgotten memory saying (Well, except me). Once more sinking down into the realm of the unconcious. The fobwatch in his hand completely forgotten in his exhaustion.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Stiles is beginning to catch on. I’ve set the date of the events about in between Anchors and More bad than good by the way. Don’t expect me to be entirely accurate though.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Memories of the Doctor</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Looking morosely at a pretty, blonde chick he heard himself say in a North-British voice that sounded nothing like his own. “I’m the last…”</p><p>“I name you the destroyer of worlds!” A freaky, ancient looking guy screamed at him from his sci-fi wheelchair.</p><p>“Listen Martha.” He said to a beautiful, dark skinned woman. Holding up his fob watch “This watch is…”</p><p>Feeling old and weary he said to himself, “Doctor. I release you.” Before everything exploded. Looking around with new eyes once again, there was something that stood out at once. Not the fact that he had wrecked the console room or something else in his surroundings. No what stood out was that everything seemed at least four times BIGGER THAN IT WAS BEFORE! Looking at his tiny hands he said, “Well… I am definitely younger”</p><p>...</p><p>Stiles woke up with a start. Rubbing his eyes blearily he could not help but wonder over how real his dream had felt. He could not think of a single time his dreams were ever this easy to remember. They always seemed to slip away when he woke up. But what did you expect? It’s dreams. </p><p>They like to tease you with an awesome adventure, then go ‘So long sucker!’ before hightailing out of your memory when you wake up. Leaving you feeling exited over something, but no matter how hard you try you just can’t remember what.</p><p>Hold up. Wait. Just wait a goddamn minute! </p><p>Hurriedly sitting up from his bed Stiles finally realized something huge. He had slept. But that’s not it. He fell asleep in the middle of the day. But that’s not it either. No. He had dreamed. But he hadn’t had any of those godforsaken nightmares! </p><p>The complete and utter relief of finally sleeping peacefully was overwhelming. Overshadowing everything else he had creeping around in his head. </p><p>He just sat there for a long while. Just laughing out his relief while at the same time holding back the tears.</p><p>Pulling himself back together he tried to figure out what changed. Which variable had been added or removed to change the outcome of his reaction to going into REM? GOD! He couldn’t remember the last time (If there even was a last time) he had felt this clearheaded and focused. </p><p>Not to mention how he felt emotionally. All of his emotional turmoil suddenly felt so small. So, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt in the present. But now he had the full confidence he would still keep on walking afterwards. No matter what the outcome. </p><p>Back to the issue. What was it I did differently this time? Okay, I wasn’t in my jimjams… Probably not what changed. Hold up. Jimjams? I’m even thinking in British now? Wait a sec!</p><p>Checking his pockets, he found the fob watch. Looking at it with a newfound interest. He thought back to his earlier dream. He could swear on all that was holy that the watch had shown up in it.</p><p>Gah! Why couldn’t the part where it showed up last longer? The guy was seconds away from explaining what in the ever-damning hell the friggin watch was!</p><p>Letting out a frustrated groan Stiles fell backwards onto his bed. Holding up his watch over his head Stiles gave it a look filled with scrutiny. Making a resolution Stiles put it back in his jeans pocket. </p><p>Getting up again and making his way down to the kitchen for a bite to eat. Stiles said lowly to himself.</p><p>“Screw it. I’ll take a weird mystery watch over nightmares and hallucinations any day.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Not a really long chapter… I got nothin else to say.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Stiles Stilinski’s investigation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After going through the rest of the day in silent contemplation only broken by the Sheriff when he returned home. It was finally time to get ready for the night and sleep. </p><p>Lying in bed Stiles thought over his decision for the thousandth time.</p><p>Is this really what I should be focusing on? Isn’t the whole Bardo night terror that could end with three untimely deaths just a little more important? No. Snap out of it Stiles. You have made your decision. </p><p>Besides this seems to block whatever the hell is wrong with me. And I am really coming close to losing my freaking mind because of whatever it is! My physical and mental health takes priorities over the supernatural catastrophe of the month.</p><p>I need the break. So, I’m gonna focus on the mystery of the pocket watch. Scott has other people he can go to if he needs help. He has me low on his priority list. Only fitting that I return the favor.<br/>
Stiles thought that last part with no small amount of spite and with a scowl on his face. Pulling out a shoelace he threaded it through the top part of the watch before fastening around his neck. Taking a deep breath, Stiles tucked the watch under his shirt and checked his nightstand to make sure his notebook and pen laid there. Ready to be used when he woke up.</p><p>Getting in a more comfortable position Stiles finally closed his eyes. And he dreamed.</p><p>He saw random faces of people he had never met and monsters he had never seen. He saw different places that he had never been to with several looking like something out of a movie with how surreal they looked. Places and people he had never encountered, but still felt hauntingly familiar. </p><p>Coming to a standstill in the blur of memories. Stiles found himself standing outside a door. A blue door. Putting his hand on the door handle gently, Stiles pushed the door open.</p><p>He was standing on a cliffside. Looking out at space towards a GODDAMN sun with a FACE! It was crazy and alien, totally surreal and just, beautiful. But that meant little to nothing in face of whoever it was he was supposed to be in this moment. The raw emotions he was feeling. The anger, the sorrow, the loss, the determination. It was almost too much to bear. Then he opened his mouth.</p><p>“I walked away from the last great time war. I marked the passing of the time lords. I saw the birth of the universe and I watched as time ran out, moment by moment, until nothing remained. No time. No space. Just me. I walked in universes where the laws of physics were devised by the mind of a mad man. And I watched universes freeze and creations burn. I have seen things you wouldn’t believe. I have lost things you will never understand. And I know things, secrets that must never be told. Knowledge that must never be spoken. Knowledge that will make parasite gods blaze!”</p><p>Waking up with a pounding heart and breathing heavily Stiles wasn’t sure how to feel. His confusion had only grown, but along with it the curiosity and slight wariness. Who the hell were that British dude and also, WHAT IN THE HOLY MOTHER OF ALL CREATION WAS HE!?</p><p>Shaking himself out of his shocked stupor, Stiles grabbed his note book to write down facts. He could do this. He had done this multiple times in the past. Besides, whoever that dude was he didn’t seem like a bad guy… Just an ancient and overpowered dude who has gone through a lot of shit.</p><p>Thinking back to the issue of what the watch was. Stiles had a couple of theories:</p><p>One, the watch made you connect telepathically to a group of people. (He had seen through the eyes of more than that ancient dude after all).<br/>
B, no two. Scowling slightly at the notebook Stiles crossed out his mistake before writing down his second theory.</p><p>Two, the watch stored the memory of previous owners of the watch. Like the pensive in Harry Potter. And they leaked out when it came close to a mind in REM sleep.</p><p>Three, the watch made you remember previous lives or some bullshit.</p><p>Four, the watch was possessed and were looking for a suitable vessel to inhabit.</p><p>Shuddering slightly at the thought of getting possessed Stiles put down the notebook. Sitting in deep thought on how to verify or disqualify some of his theories. Stiles went back to an underlying issue that he had overlooked earlier. Where did he get the watch from? He has had it for so long. He could not remember not having it.</p><p>Resolving himself, Stiles decided to ask someone that could remember that far back.</p><p>Whelp. Time to take the investigation to the Sheriff for a lead.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So… Hello. Hope you find this an enjoyable read… Bye.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Confrontation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waiting has never been Stiles strong suit. Sitting still while waiting even more so. His body simply could not stay still for long periods of time.</p><p>So sitting still on the sofa in the living room while waiting for his father was not a fun experience for Stiles. Especially since he just could not shake the uneasy feeling bubbling up in his chest. After going over every single thing that could go wrong with his inquiry while biting his nails and bouncing his leg up and down impatiently. He finally broke down. He could not sit still for a second longer. How long was it before his dad showed up anyway?</p><p>Looking at the clock he finally realized… It’s only been ten minutes. And his dad would not be home for another five hours…</p><p>“Oh. Come on!” Stiles said annoyed.</p><p>Getting up from the god damn sofa he decided to go up to his bedroom to find something to read or some other shit. He could not handle sitting still with only his negative thoughts to keep him company.</p><p>Looking around his room his annoyance went another level higher up on the scale of irritation. He could not think of a single thing he actually wanted to do. Not a single thing out of his various earthly free time belongings gave out the sweet whisper of temptation for him to use to kill time.</p><p>(HA! Kill time? Please. Time is much more likely to kill everything and still keep going.)</p><p>Stopping up briefly in his quest to prevent boredom, Stiles laughed slightly. That was an interesting thought. Kudos to the little voice in his brain.</p><p>Shaking himself out of his mild stupor he went back to his current issue. His dad would not be here for another five god damn hours. Honestly, he loved his dad, but couldn’t he at the least stay home on Sundays? </p><p>Nipping that train of thought in the bud Stiles tried to focus on something other that his god forsaken negativity. His father was the sheriff for crying out loud. Not exactly your standard nine to five employment schedule.</p><p>Looking over his room for what seemed like the bazzilionth time. His eyes fell on his notebook.</p><p>Well.</p><p>Stiles thought musingly.</p><p>Can’t hurt to think over what I’m about to discuss with dad when he gets home. Besides, I forgot to write down most of what I remembered from my first dream.</p><p>Grabbing his notebook and pen before making his way back to the living room couch. Stiles were back on track with his mystery watch train of thought.</p><p>Writing down different theories and facts. Stiles buried himself in his ponderings. Only snapping out of his reverie when the sheriff walked through the front door.</p><p>“I’m back.” Were the words to start Stiles first human interaction that day.</p><p>Slamming his notebook shut Stiles bounced up from his seat shouting.</p><p>“Hey dad. Could you come join me in the living room after you’ve taken your shoes off? We need to have a little talk.” </p><p>Winching inwardly at his confrontational tone. Stiles took a deep breath to try and dispel the feeling of uneasiness. This was his dad for heavens sake. Not one of his criminals brought in for interrogation.<br/>
On the sheriff’s side he could not help but wonder what the hell his kid had stumbled over now? Sighing in fond exasperation Noah made his way into the living room where his son sat on the couch with an unreadable expression on his face.</p><p>“Okay son. What is it you have stumbled over this time?” Noah asked.</p><p>Huffing slightly Stiles answered,</p><p>“Well, I would not say stumbled over as much as I’d say ignored for a damn long time before noticing it.”</p><p>Furrowing his brows at the cryptic answer. Noah asked,</p><p>“Okay. And what is that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“Well” Stiles said before pulling out the watch from its place under his shirt. He had no plans of parting from it anytime soon (considering it was holding some form of madness at bay). So fastened around his neck it stayed.</p><p>“Have you got any clue where I got this fob watch from?” Stiles asked with a clear British accent.</p><p>Maintaining a pokerfaced façade while cursing himself inwardly over his slipup into britishdom. Stiles looked at his father.</p><p>Staring at the offending item in his son’s hand with a mixture of surprise and fear. Noah thought with a touch of franticness on how he was supposed to explain this to his son without hurting him deeply while doing it. </p><p>After a brief stalemate where the father and son duo stayed immobile in their separate spots. Noah ended it by closing his eyes in resignation. This was far from how he had expected to end up telling his son he was adopted. Hell, he had forgotten the watch even existed! But sometimes you just had to roll with the punches. Praying inwardly this would not be the last time Stiles saw him as his father. Noah opened his mouth and said.</p><p>“Son, I think we need to talk.”</p><p>Looking at him strangely Stiles answered.</p><p>“Well duh. It was my idea.”</p><p>Chuckling tiredly at his son’s usual brand of sarcasm. Noah nodded and said.</p><p>“That it was, but the story of how you got that watch is not a simple one. It’s a way bigger story than a trip to the antique shop.”</p><p>Scratching himself behind the ear nervously. Noah continued.</p><p>“And it’s a long time coming.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So… A little cliffhanger I guess. Aint got a lot else to say. Bye!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Unconditionally.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Stilinski households living room was plunged in silence. The forms of the father and son duo sitting in their respective seats. They each had different reasons to hold their tongue.</p><p>Sheriff Stilinski was sitting there in nervous waiting for his son’s reaction. He had thousands of thoughts and feelings swarming around in his head. Most of them being fear of losing his son, being rejected by his son and what he could say to prevent it.</p><p>All of it was on the tip of his tongue, but none of it came out. He was waiting for his son’s reaction (yes, he would call him his son no matter what. Stiles was his kid god damn it!).</p><p>Stiles on the other hand. Was silent simply cause he had no fucking clue on how to react to this shit. He just needed to have a friggin minute to absorb the fact that he was adopted. Like damn. He did not expect that. After spending a few minutes in silent musing, he removed his gaze from his hands in his lap and just looked at his dad. Was he still his dad? He didn’t even know anymore. </p><p>Feeling the panic setting in he took ahold of the watch hanging from his neck like a lifeline. Dragging himself out of the dark lake of overpowered emotions.</p><p>Batting the nasty thoughts away Stiles focused as best he could to keep his voice from breaking and broke the silence with the words.</p><p>“Well damn. That was not how I thought this conversation would go.”</p><p>Letting out a low chuckle at his son’s usual brand of sarcasm Noah answered.</p><p>“Yeah. Not the best of timing, but you know. Felt like I had waited too long to tell you already.”</p><p>Laying a hand gently on his shoulder Noah said with a badly hidden tension.</p><p>“You know that I love you no matter what right? I may not have had a hand in creating you, but you are still my kid.”</p><p>Looking at this man in front of him Stiles thought of all the things he had been through with him. All of the good days. All of the bad days. All the stuff in between. At this moment all Stiles could think was this.</p><p>This was no random stranger he had met on the street. This was not a passing acquaintance. This was the man who raised him, the man who loved him unconditionally. Through his ADHD developing and him poking his nose in on his cases. Through the though times after losing his wife. Even through the messed-up discovery of the supernatural shit that was going on in his life. This man had never stopped loving him.</p><p>And he was looking at him in this moment with a badly disguised fear of rejection.</p><p>Stiles answered unhesitantly.</p><p>“Well duh. It’s not like it was a frigging ghost that raised me.”</p><p>Scratching his head nervously he continued.</p><p>“You know you still haven’t answered on where I got the watch from… Dad.”</p><p>The pure relief shining in his father’s eyes and the smile building up said more than words.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New chapter. Not the longest, but I could not find a better note to end the chapter on.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Drawing closer</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After reassuring his dad that he would always be his dad. They spent the rest of the day in each-others company. </p><p>They didn’t really do much. Just sat there talking about various nonsensical topics. Both a little reluctant to leave each-other, in fear of losing the other in some kinda way. </p><p>So, they just sat there talking, joking and laughing in an effort to prove to the other that nothing had changed between them. </p><p>While Stiles in the meantime was trying almost desperately not to think about the implications of the biggest revelation of his life.</p><p>Okay, the whole supernatural world of werewolves, banshees and more should by all means trump this, but in all honesty. It seemed minor in comparison to… whatever the hell this was.</p><p>Pushing it once again to the back of his mind Stiles used all his willpower to push through the erratic nature of a mind with ADHD to focus on the only man he would ever acknowledge as his father.<br/>
He wasn’t sure what would happen in the future. There was a lot of shit going on with him and he had no idea how all of it would pan out. Hell, according to Scotts latest paramour he was on his way to fucking dying! And on the other hand, he was going through some frigging sanity losing bullshit. Hallucinations included.</p><p>Not to mention whatever the hell the watch was about.</p><p>There was no goddamn way he was going to pass up on the opportunity to spend time with his dad when the future seemed so uncertain. He had no idea how this would turn out.</p><p>No fucking way was he gonna let his dad be uncertain on where they stood.</p><p>He would take the opportunity when he still had it to clear the air.</p><p>But alas, everything must come to an end. Sooner or later they had to stop and retreat back to their separate bedrooms for the night.</p><p>Leaving Stiles alone with his thoughts.</p><p>Sitting on his bed Stiles looked at the watch in his hands in deep thought.</p><p>Trying to keep calm and just breathe Stiles went over what he had just learned.</p><p>He had always had the watch. Ever since he was found by his dad the watch had been a constant companion throughout his life.</p><p>Turning it over in his head to fit this huge piece of the puzzle in with what he already had found. Stiles went through what he remembered of his dreams.</p><p>“Well… I am definitely younger”</p><p>Freezing up, Stiles looked wide eyed up into the empty air at the memory.</p><p>The memory of golden light, of burning up from the inside, of looking down at his (was it his?) hands and realizing they belonged to a toddler.</p><p>Eyes snapping back to the watch with a new overwhelming suspicion. </p><p>Were the memories... his?</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So… new chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Rock and a hard place</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles wanted to scream. To throw the fucking watch out the damn window. To deny the mere possibility that he had guessed correctly. Then proceed to curl up in a corner and cry.<br/>
He did not nor had ever wanted to be anyone else than who he was. Sure, he was not the most perfect example of a human being. He had numerus flaws, no point in denying it. But they were his! They were a part of him, of his identity! There was a reason he said no to the bite god damn it!!</p><p>He didn’t want to be a werewolf or a banshee or a druid or… I don’t know, a god damn vampire?! He hadn’t ever seen one of those fuckers so far, but if werewolves existed why the hell wouldn’t those pale, blood sucking sons of bitches exist too?</p><p>As it stood the scream was trapped in his throat and his hand did not move (no matter how big a part of him wanted to). Even through all of the chaos swirling in his head he had not forgotten why he’d been looking into the watch in the first place.</p><p>Namely his deteriorating sanity. The hallucinations, the fucked-up dreams that kept him from sleeping, last but not least his emotions being in high gear. He couldn’t even remember the last night he had a full night’s sleep before his discovery.</p><p>Stiles had known he had been faking it. Faking that his nightmares didn’t bother him as much as they did. That they hadn’t been getting worse. That he didn’t have to use every single scrap of self-control in his body to muffle the screams that tore out of his throat when he woke up. </p><p>That he had not just had a hallucination that made the world around him look like a major glitch in The Matrix That he was barely holding onto his sanity by his fingertips. </p><p>He was even more aware of how close he’d been to completely losing it by the time he had discovered… whatever the hell the watch was about. He still wasn’t sure what it was, just that it had a big chance of being a type of container or seal for the memories (and who knows what else) of whoever it was he had been before he was… well him! </p><p>Would it just keep awakening memories if he kept doing this? Did he have to do something specific to remember everything? In any case, would he still be himself if he went through with it? What even was he? He still didn’t have anything to go on except the few memories he had seen in his dreams. But that dude sure as hell weren’t human. Would he just wake up one day with a total stranger in his place?!</p><p>Stiles drew a shaking hand down his face and tried to just breathe. He did not need a goddamn panic attack on top of every thing else going on. He decided to push that particular line of thought aside for now. He had nothing too concrete on what was going on in that department anyway. An identity crisis could therefore wait.</p><p>Cause’ what he did know was that whatever was happening pulled him back from the edge of the cliff he’d been dangling from. It kept the nightmares away. The hallucinations too. He’d been finally been able to relax again. It didn’t feel like he had a giant ass blade hanging over his head that could drop if he so much as breathed wrong.</p><p>Stiles suddenly had a strange urge to laugh. Laugh like there was no tomorrow. Laugh like the Joker on laughing gas. Laugh until he cried. Laugh at the position he was in. </p><p>Cause’ right now it seemed like he had three options.<br/>
1.	Throw the watch away and probably lose his sanity.<br/>
2.	Hope that him, Scott, Scott’s band of misfits and his latest paramour could solve whatever the hell was going on before it was too late (for what you may ask? Well that’s the fucking question isn’t it?)<br/>
3.	See where the watch takes him.</p><p>None of them really appealed to Stiles. Option one was clearly out. Some people might think insanity was fun, but he was not one of them thank you very much.</p><p>Option two was… risky. Don’t get him wrong, he still had some faith left in Scott, but he had a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach that his best bud would be too late to save him in this scenario. </p><p>Besides, the mystery solving was usually his job. How in all the seven circles of hell was he supposed to do that if he was clinically insane?! Or whatever the hell would happen if he let it be.</p><p>Looking back down at the watch again Stiles considered the third option.</p><p>Option three on the other hand was a wild card. It was full of uncertainties and holes. He had no idea what would happen if he went down this road. Just that it blocked whatever it was that tried to drive him to insanity and that it gave him memories that could possibly (look who’s lying to himself) be old memories being awakened. Also, it could, maybe just maybe end up turning him into something non-human...</p><p>After a long period of contemplation. Stiles tightened the grip on his watch. He had reached his decision.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New chapters up! Kinda ended on a cliff hanger, but that’s just how it’s gonna be. Hope whoever’s reading enjoyed the experience! Bye for now!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Stiles's determination</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Once again floating in a sea of memories Stiles tried to keep it together. Reaching the same blue door as last time Stiles hesitated. Looking at what he now noticed were double doors with scrutiny. He wondered what they were supposed to represent. </p><p>They gave of a feeling of… safety. Stiles thought. Shaking his head, he reached for the door handle. He had more important stuff to figure out. </p><p>When his hand was a centimeter away from the handle he hesitated again. If he were right these memories were his. The sheer impact of that line of thought made him clench his fists and shake in fear. </p><p>Gathering up what was left of his courage Stiles took a deep breath, reached out and yanked the door open.</p><p>Looking around he found himself in a basement like place… or maybe a warehouse? What did it matter! There’s a friggin tank of lava with a face! What the heck was this even supposed to be? </p><p>His memory self on the other hand was completely unfazed. Just giving off a feeling of seriousness and determination.</p><p>“I seek audience with the Nestene consciousness.” Memory him said. “Under peaceful contract, according to Convention 15 of the Shadow Proclamation.”</p><p>What the hell was a Nestene? And what was that last bit supposed to be? Some kinda political shit?</p><p>Suddenly blurring the memory shifted over to a new scene.</p><p>He was cold. He wasn’t wearing any clothes. He needed to get out of the cold. </p><p>The fuck is this! Stiles thought. Did someone lock me in a freezer? His confusion mixing with the confusion of the him in the memory. And boy was memory him confused! He gave off the vibe that he had as much of an idea as to what was going on as Stiles! And Stiles didn’t even know who he was!</p><p>Finding a locked door, he started pounding on it. Damn, was memory him strong. After a few good kicks and punches the door fell right off it’s hinges.</p><p>Stumbling out of the freezer with the white sheet tightly wrapped around him. He looked up to see a kinda chubby lookin’ guy staring at him and saying.</p><p>“Oh my god. God no!”</p><p>Before fainting on the spot. Stiles looked down at the dude on the floor. What even is this situation? </p><p>Scene once again blurring Stiles found himself in the weirdest situation so far. He was in a crouch… under some lady’s skirt. And oh, guess what? He was naked. Cause that’s the kind of situation a virgin like Stiles could handle being dropped in with no prior warning!</p><p>Waking up in his bed Stiles first thought was. The fuck was that supposed to be?</p><p>Sitting up Stiles tried to get his now tomato red face to calm down.</p><p>Hiding his face in his hands Stiles thought wryly to himself that at least what he saw wasn’t directly bad… Just weird. Like… really weird. That last one in particular.</p><p>Pulling his watch out from under his shirt Stiles thought over his earlier decision. He still wasn’t sure it was the right one. Hell, he honestly wasn’t sure there even was a right option in this scenario. </p><p>Everything could change if he went down this road, but even so. This was the one path he could take that was the least likely to drive him insane… he hoped.</p><p>Clenching his fist around the watch in determination. Stiles prayed to whatever deity that was listening that no matter what he lost that his dad wouldn’t lose him.</p><p>He had already lost one person he loved to insanity and sickness. Stiles couldn’t let it happen again. Least of all because he was afraid of changing. </p><p>Putting the watch back under his shirt. Stiles solidified his determination.</p><p>Getting up Stiles started getting ready for school.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>New chapter. Hope you like it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Dude you okay?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>There ya go. New chapter. Partly Stiles pov. Partly Scotts. Hope you like it.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles was trudging down the school hallways towards his locker in deep thought. The possibility of such a massive change weighing heavily on his consciousness. What if he lost everything? His friends, his dad, himself?! Was this really something he wanted to do?</p><p>“Stiles.”</p><p>Oh, come on! When the fuck did I become such a whimp? I’ve already decided and I’m gonna stick with it! </p><p>Stiles thought stubbornly. Besides, what if whoever he used to be had loved ones too? A flash of all the faces he had seen in his dreams went through his head. Yes, there was definitely somebody who missed whoever he used to be.</p><p>“I have lost things you would never understand!”   </p><p>“Stiles?”</p><p>Stiffening at the memory Stiles felt a massive fear creeping in. How much pain had who he used to be gone through? How much loss? </p><p>“Nothing remained! No time. No space. Just me!”</p><p>Stiles was trying to keep himself from trembling now. The mere memory of the pain and the loss he had felt in that moment was almost too much to bear. Could he really handle being that person?</p><p>“STILES!”</p><p>Feeling a hand on his shoulder Stiles looked away startled from his locker (that he now realized had been watching blankly for like five minutes) to look at Scott (who had been trying to catch his attention for four minutes) who was looking at him worriedly.</p><p>“Heh he heey buddy!”</p><p>Stiles said with a forced laugh. Looking around nervously while fidgeting. Stiles cleared his throat and said.</p><p>“Sorry bout that. Got a bit lost in thought. Anyway, what’s up?”</p><p>With a forced smile in an attempt to make his best bud forget the fact that he had been standing still, lookin’ like he was in a trance while turning more and more scared before Scott had snapped him out of it. Well no can do! Scott may be kind of dense sometimes, but not that fucking dense!</p><p>“Dude are you okay?”</p><p>Scott asked with clear worry in his voice. He knew Stiles tried to play it off, but he knew that whatever was going on with him, Stiles and Allison after their little expedition to the afterlife to had hit Stiles the hardest. Besides that, the fact that Stiles had been pulling away from not just him, but everyone didn’t give out the signal of being fine!</p><p>Giving him an obviously fake smile Stiles said unconvincingly while trying to sound convincing.</p><p>“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?”</p><p>Scott wanted to shake his best friend and shout. Looking over his best friend once again Scott was relieved to see he looked less tired than he did on Friday. Maybe he was getting better?</p><p>“Uh, cause’ you looked like your locker turned into the Joker who had just decided to see if cannibalism was his thing?"</p><p>Scott said teasingly. The surprised look he got in response did not sit well with him. Did he think he wouldn’t notice or something? Or that he didn’t care? Giving a low chuckle Stiles answered.</p><p>“Nah man. I’m good. Just got a bit too deep in thought.”</p><p>Eyes narrowing at the new deflection Scott opened his mouth to ask what kind of shit had he been thinking of that made him look so goddamn scared. Before he could utter a word, the bell rang.</p><p>“Anyway, we better get to class. Come on dude.”</p><p>Stiles said before grabbing his books and walking off hurriedly. Obviously trying to end the conversation.</p><p>Hurrying after, Scott tried to remember if he had done something that would give off the impression that he didn’t care. Was it cause’ he didn’t have time to hang out this weekend? Sue him, he had a life. </p><p>Besides, Kira seemed like she could help give him answers to whatever the hell was going on. The fact that she was hot was more like a plus. A huge plus, but still… The whole hallucination-bardo thingy was a bit more urgent than getting a new girlfriend. </p><p>Especially if it ended with the three of them dead and in the ground pushing up daisies. He would like to live thank you very much.</p><p>Sighing Scott decided to leave his best friend’s issues be for a while longer. Figuring out this whole mess and fixing it was more important. If it was something really important Stiles would tell him.</p><p>“Oi mate! Come along now! Stop draggin’ yer feet.”</p><p>Cursing at yet another slip up into britishdom Stiles pretended like nothing odd had happened. Nope. He hadn’t turned into an Englishman a second ago. Nothing to see here. Just plain old Stiles.</p><p>Feeling a sweat drop forming Scott tried to convince himself. Yes, Stiles would tell him if anything major was going on. They were best friends after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Noticeable</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles sat in the school cafeteria with his nose deep in his notebook and tapping his pen against the table. Trying to piece together… something. He had no idea as to what exactly he was trying to figure out, but he was trying damn it. </p><p>But seriously, he had been at this for weeks now, but all he had to work with were random flashes of what he thought might be memories. For all he knew they were just hyper realistic images created by his subconscious when he entered REM-sleep… </p><p>Shaking his head before pinching his nose Stiles sighed. He was really starting to tire of that damn near constant self-doubt he had going on lately. Refocusing at his notebook he looked at the illustrations staring back at him. The illustrations of places, faces and all sorts of other things that invoked… so many emotions. </p><p>“Stiles? Stiles!”</p><p>Looking up Stiles slammed the notebook shut. Before placing his arm on top before turning towards his best friend calling him. Looking around he noticed everyone sitting at the table were looking at him. With worried expressions. Even Kira, she had just joined the pack. Seriously, he had barely even talked to her. The hell was this?</p><p>Giving a slightly awkward wave and a tightlipped smile. Stiles to play off the fact that he had been staring blankly at his notebook for quite a while.</p><p>“Yeah buddy. What’s up.”</p><p>“Uh, nothing much just. You’ve been real quiet. You okay?”</p><p>Stiles still felt a bit put off when things like this happened. He was so used to be overlooked or un prioritized. Then whatever was going on with the damn watch happened and suddenly people were paying attention to him. What was up with that? Oh, right he had to answer his best friend.</p><p>“Uh, yeah. I’m good. Just can’t really think of much to say.”</p><p>Looking at his notebook he continued. </p><p>“Besides I’ve got…”</p><p>Stiles gestured awkwardly towards his notebook.</p><p>“Something I’m workin’ on so… little bit distracted.”</p><p>Looking at Stiles’s book with curiosity shining in his eyes Scott asked.</p><p>“Oh cool. What is it?”</p><p>Biting his lip nervously Stiles sighted. Well he couldn’t hide it forever. Telling at least some of the truth couldn’t hurt. Ignoring the damn fear screaming inside of him that was screaming that this was a bad idea. Stiles opened his mouth and confessed.</p><p>“Just… notes on some of the dreams I’ve been having.”</p><p>Looking around Scott lowered his voice and asked.</p><p>“You mean the dreams and shit you, me and Allison get ‘cause of you-know-what?”</p><p>Rolling his eyes Stiles couldn’t help himself and snapped back sarcastically.</p><p>“No, the dreams we get ‘cause of Voldemort’s missing nose has nothing to do with it. Why would we get dreams ‘cause of a missing body parts from psyco wizard-dudes anyway?”</p><p>Which made low snickering erupt from everyone at the table. Then Lydia broke into the conversation and said.</p><p>“Seriously though Stiles. Is it those dreams? I thought Deaton said you guys were all out of the danger-zone?”</p><p>Sighing Stiles replied.</p><p>“Eh, could be. Not really sure at the moment.”</p><p>Shifting closer Lydia asked.</p><p>“Need a second opinion?”</p><p>Looking at Lydia Stiles couldn’t help feeling a flash of irritation. It was sweet of her to want to help him. No doubt about that. A Stiles from a few months earlier (at most) would have jumped on the opportunity to spend time with his crush. Sending her a fake smile Stiles declined the offer.</p><p>“Nah, I’m good. It’s not like I’m dreaming of anything dangerous. It’s just kinda… weird.”</p><p>Looking at him with those eyes that had once made him feel… so much in his heart. Stiles felt numb. Stiles wondered when he had stopped loving the girl in front of him. Probably when he realized she would never pick him.</p><p>“You sure?”</p><p>“Yeah. I’m good for now. I’ll let you know if I do end up needing your brain.”</p><p>Stiles said before opening his notebook to a blank page. Everyone was still looking at him dubiously before reluctantly turning away. Stiles in his emotionally fragile state, couldn’t help feeling that she was looking down on his capabilities and that she didn’t think he could handle it on his own. Hell, that went for everyone there. </p><p>These last few weeks they had been constantly hovering. And when they weren’t doing that, they would keep sending him worried glances or texts.</p><p>A resentful voice in Stiles’s head kept wondering why they started doing that now? Now! When he was finally starting to feel better. Why the fuck did they start to worry now? Where the fuck was all that worrying when he’d been two breaths away from a complete meltdown? Why were they noticing him now?!</p><p>They weren’t noticing the damn watch that’s for sure. And that was a good thing in Stiles’s books. He was of course curious as to how the hell the watch were able to go so under the radar. </p><p>Seriously he had held it in his hand for everyone to see a time or two, but everyone just seemed to look past it or look at it for a sec before looking away and forgetting the damn thing. Sending the same look later. Some kind of enchantment maybe? Stiles pondered writing the theory down. Ignoring the quiet snort of derision in the back of his head. (Yep, it’s still there.)</p><p>Another reason he didn’t feel like pointing out the watch’s existence. The way these knuckle-heads had been acting these past weeks they would probably try to take it and break it. After they had lectured him on how, ‘you can’t just mess around with things like this Stiles’ and ‘you could get hurt Stiles’ and of course the classic ‘you are only human Stiles’.</p><p>The mere thought alone was frightening to Stiles and enraging. Thanks to the watch he could finally sleep at night. He could finally go about his day without worrying about tripping into the hallucination-of-doom-express. </p><p>And so far, the only noticeable side effects were the kinda-maybe-memory-dreams, the chance of slipping into a brit and maybe eventually remembering who he had been before he had been Stiles. Insanity for a new identity. Not so bad a trade if you asked him. </p><p>If he lost the watch, he would go back to being slowly driven insane. Slowly lose touch of reality. Leaving his dad to grieve another member of his family lost in their own mind. There was of course no guarantee that Scott and his pack of misfits would really try to take his watch. But call it paranoia. He was not willing to risk it. </p><p>Besides no matter what kind of weird mumbo-jumbo, the watch’s deal was… it was his. It had always been his. The watch, the watch’s content. All of it. It was his. He might not like it, but he acknowledged it. That was the one thing he was certain of.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Well… here’s another chapter. Think it’s the longest one I’ve written so far. Hope you like it.<br/>Btw. I’m thinking of bringing in a love interest. Would give me more to work with story wise.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Quiet worry</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Scott paced anxiously back and forth in his living room. </p><p>“Will you stop it with the pacing already?”</p><p>Lydia asked from her spot on the couch. Stopping mid stride to look at her. Scott said with a clear tone of frustration.</p><p>“I can’t help it. Stiles is driving me nuts!”</p><p>Before resuming the pacing. The feeling of worry and frustration fueling each stride. </p><p>“Well pacing’s not gonna help.”</p><p>Lydia retorted, throwing her hands in the air exasperated. Kira looked around at the worried faces in the group. It’s times like this that being the newbie in the pack sucked. She had known them for a few weeks and it’s only been like a week or so since she got included in the whole supernatural bullshit that was now her life.</p><p>Which in other words meant. She had no idea why everyone was so worried about Stiles. They all just kept sending him worried looks and checking on him. </p><p>Even though as far as she could see he was totally fine. Okay, maybe a little quiet and reclusive, but so what?  Seriously, they were making her worried with how worried they were. Kira gave in and just straight out asked.</p><p>“I give up. Can someone just tell me what’s the big deal with Stiles?”</p><p>She only half expected the shocked looks that followed her question. Isaac being the first one to recover asked.</p><p>“You… you mean you haven’t noticed how weird he’s being?”</p><p>Sighing with clear annoyance. Kira massaged her temples. </p><p>“No, not really. He’s kind of quiet and keeps to himself. But he’s always been like that as long as I’ve known him.”</p><p>Understanding dawned to Kira’s predicament. She hadn’t met Stiles until after he stopped acting like… Stiles.</p><p>Scratching his head aggressively Scott exclaimed.</p><p>“That’s the point! He’s not supposed to be quiet!”</p><p>Waving his hands around Scott tried to explain why it was wrong that the guy who once hadn’t shown one ounce of hesitation before asking loudly in a crowded school hallway he question ‘Am I attractive to gay guys?’ were quiet.</p><p>“I know my best friend and he’s not supposed to be quiet! He’s supposed to be the guy who doesn’t hesitate to butt into a conversation. He’s supposed to be the guy who won’t shut up!”</p><p>Scott said with a growl. Holding back his werewolf side that was just as worried for its packmate as Scott was for his best friend by the skin of his teeth.</p><p>When the hell had he started to get so quiet? Scott wanted to punch himself in the face. Why hadn’t he done something earlier? He had noticed something was up ages ago. Why hadn’t he done something? Why had he kept forgetting to do something? </p><p>He wasn’t sure what ever the hell he could have done, but he sure as hell could have been there for him. Sure, he’d been having a tough time with the side-effects from that damn near-death-ritual hocus-pocus, but so had Allison. So had Stiles. </p><p>“Oh.”</p><p>Snapping out of his inner monologue of self-blame Scott looked at Kira who had started to ever so slightly understand what was going on. </p><p>Besides. Haven’t you noticed how he zones out an…and looks so freaking SCARED?!”</p><p>Scott added. Barely keeping himself from punching something in his worried frustration.</p><p>“Yeah okay. That’s a good reason to worry, but he could just be having a bad time with those… Bardo hallucinations you guys are having.”</p><p>Kira pointed out. Scott rolled his eyes and barely refrained from snorting derisively.</p><p>“Yeah. Like we haven’t thought of that already.” </p><p>Scott said bitterly. Sending him an indignant look Kira defended her statement and said.</p><p>“I mean. Maybe whatever messed up shit he saw traumatized him?”</p><p>Sighing Lydia added.</p><p>“That isn’t a far stretch. Considering the full-on zombie look he had going on a few weeks back he was clearly having the worst case of the side-effects out of the three of you.”  </p><p>It all rounded back to that didn’t it? Scott thought bitterly. Every time they discussed what was up with Stiles, they always ended up right where they started. That stupid ritual and it’s stupid side effects. Had he even asked him what kind of creepy shit he saw?</p><p>Once Scott realized a few weeks ago that they had drawn the line at ‘I’m seeing creepy shit.’ ‘Oh yeah, me too’ he very nearly banged his head straight through a wall. Now he wasn’t sure Stiles would even tell him the way he had been looking at him and the rest of the pack lately. When he was actually looking at them anyway. </p><p>“You sure he’s better now?”</p><p>Scott asked Lydia for what was probably the gazillionth time. Groaning Lydia said.</p><p>“Come on. We’ve been through this already. We don’t know for sure, but you can’t deny he seems better.”</p><p>Looking over at Lydia, Scott remarked.</p><p>“Okay sure. Getting rid of the, I’m-a-quiet-sleep-deprived-zombie thing he had going on. Is an improvement. I’m not denying that.”</p><p>Scott couldn’t describe the feeling of relief that washed over him when his best friend stopped looking like a dead man walking. </p><p>“But still… He’s clearly not okay.”</p><p>Scott said quietly.</p><p>Cause’ at the same time… it felt like all the worry for his best friends well being after seeing how he had started to reek of exhaustion. How he had sometimes looked around with a deep-seated terror in his eyes for no reason. How he had started to go more and more QUIET!</p><p>All that worry broke through. Not quiet and dainty like either. More like a tsunami. Pulling back before returning in a huge, crushing wave. The longer it retreated the bigger the wave. </p><p>He wasn’t the only one either. Everyone in the pack came to him one by one that day and asked him if he knew if Stiles were okay. Everyone else was worried as hell too. And now they just… couldn’t stop. They couldn’t stop checking on him or send him worried looks. </p><p>“But come on. Aren’t you guys coming on a little too strong?”</p><p>Kira said exasperated. The following winces from everyone else in the room only confirming her statement.</p><p>Yes, they logically knew he was better already. They knew he had just reacted worse to the ritual than him and Allison. Hell, after they had talked to Deaton and figured out what those goddamn hallucinations were (why the fuck didn’t he say anything earlier?!) in the first-place they knew they were all out of the danger zone. None of them would be dying from that god forsaken ritual today.</p><p>They knew all of that. Still, what if Deaton were wrong? What if they weren’t out of danger? The number one spot for worst reaction went to Stiles hands down. What if he died? What if the reason he had become so withdrawn was because he had been dying? The thought alone was sickening to Scott. Looking over at Kira with puppy dog eyes Scott said.</p><p>“But…but I’m worried about him. I don’t want him to think I don’t care.”</p><p>Sure, he hadn’t really spent much time with him outside of school lately (when the fuck did that happen?!), but that didn’t mean he had (he couldn’t stress this enough) stopped caring about his best friend!</p><p>Now he couldn’t stop checking on him. The thought of him dying alone thinking Scott had better things to do than caring about his best-friend’s well-being was a great motivator in that aspect. </p><p>Feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder Scott looked up from the very interesting spot on the floor he had been staring at (no, he had NOT been sulking. Thank you very much). His eyes locking on to Kira’s kind eyes. </p><p>“Hey. Come on. He’s been through a lot. Give him some time. Besides.”</p><p>Kira said with a smile.</p><p>“He opened up a bit today.”</p><p>“Yeah that’s true.”</p><p>Lydia continued.</p><p>“He told us what he’s writing in his new best friend mr.notebook.”</p><p>Scowling at the insinuation that he’s been replaced by a freaking notebook. Lydia winched.</p><p>“No offense Scott.”</p><p>Yeah. Here comes the current issue waving it’s banners in screaming colors. The cause of Scott’s mounting frustration. </p><p>Here’s the thing. Just ‘cause Stiles wasn’t Mr. sleepwalker extraordinaire anymore did not mean he had stopped being withdrawn. Stopped being quiet. </p><p>Sure, he talked to them. The same sarcastic edge as always (though he had started to use a british accent for some reason), but most of the time he preferred sitting with a pen in his hand. Writing in that FUCKING NOTEBOOK!</p><p>As the weeks rolled by Scott got a rising urge to steal the stupid book so he could find out what the fuck it was Stiles had been writing in it. That or RIP THE DAMN THING TO SHREDS!!!</p><p>He did not feel like losing his best friend to a god damned notebook! It didn’t help that he wouldn’t tell him (or anyone for that matter) why he was so hell bent on spending so much time on…whatever the hell he was writing. </p><p>It didn’t help at all that he kept sending everyone looks that were steadily turning more and more annoyed. Seriously, couldn’t he see they were worried?</p><p>Scowling to himself Scott thought about what they had finally managed to wrangle out of him earlier. </p><p>“You’re right. But still. What kind of crack-head dreams was so important that he had spent weeks writing down notes about it?”</p><p>Scott grumbled. Scratching his head in confused irritation. Scott asked.</p><p>“The hell do you think he meant by weird?”</p><p>Seeing everyone dish out different ways of saying ‘not a clue’ did not help the overall confusion looming in the room.</p><p>Suddenly feeling downhearted Scott asked.</p><p>“Do you… do you think we’ve been coming on too strong?”</p><p>Sighing Lydia responded.</p><p>“Maybe. Considering how annoyed he’s getting.”</p><p>“That was kind of my earlier point.”</p><p>Kira said under her breath.</p><p>“You think it be better if we… backed off a bit?”</p><p>Scott asked. The reluctancy clear in his voice. He couldn’t really help it. He was too worried. Sighing Lydia said.</p><p>“Yeah maybe.”<br/>…<br/>Laying down in bed that night Scott thought about his earlier decision somberly. His inner wolf did not like it one bit. Still, Stiles clearly needed time and Scott didn’t want him to feel like he was smothering him.</p><p>At least…</p><p>Scott thought.</p><p>At least he told us something. He’s opening up again. A little at least.</p><p>It’s a start. He was getting better. He was dealing with… whatever it was he was dealing with. He’d be back to normal soon enough. Scott hoped. He didn’t wanna lose his best friend.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Tada! Yep I rewrote this one! Damn! It got really long. Hope you like it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Stiles's core</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I wouldn’t say no to a salami sandwitch.”</p><p>He said slowly. Breaking into laughter at the end of the last word.</p><p>Rubbing his chin, he said with a slightly absentminded tone.</p><p>“I made some cocoa and got engaged.”</p><p>He sat by himself frustratedly counting.</p><p>“One. Two”</p><p>There was something he was missing.</p><p>He was looking at a young blonde woman saying.</p><p>“I am he and he is me”</p><p>While gesturing to a tiny man with a Beatles haircut.</p><p>Looking over at a kind of scary-looking lady with curly red hair. He proclaimed.</p><p>“Absence makes the nose grow longer.”</p><p>Before marching off to who knows where.</p><p>Panting and feeling overall unwell he exclaimed between breaths.</p><p>“I’ve only got one heart working. How do you people cope.”</p><p>Looking down on the watch he felt his singular heart beat in his chest.<br/>
…<br/>
Opening his eyes Stiles took a sec to just stare at the ceiling. He was really starting to get annoyed over how little significant information he was getting from these dreams. </p><p>Hell, it’s been weeks and he didn’t even know what his freaking name was! It always cut off right before past him could get it out.</p><p>Did the dreams have to push in so much random shit? Don’t get him wrong some of them were funny as hell and experiencing being all these different people was really interesting (was he a shapeshifter or something?). But he would really prefer it if he could figure out his current situation first.</p><p>Stiles’s eyebrows furrowed thinking about that last bit right before he woke up. He had apparently used the watch (whatever it was for) before. Seeing the watch and feeling the singular heart beating in his chest confirmed it. Stiles hand fell onto the right side of his chest. Oh yeah. Something he had figured out these past weeks. </p><p>Whoever he was supposed to be had two hearts. TWO fucking HEARTS! He had been on the edge of a panic attack when he figured that little piece of information out. As if he hadn’t been inhuman enough as it was. And that was something else he got more aware of with each dream.</p><p>Just how different he saw the world. How different his body worked in the memory-dreams. Fine YES! He had admitted it at least to himself that the chance of the dreams being just dreams and not memories of an inhuman version of him were slim to none.</p><p>Sighing Stiles sat up and whipped out the now almost full notebook. Flipping to the pages where he had drawn (he had no fucking clue how he suddenly got that damn good at drawing and he fully intended to just blame it on the mind-fuckery known as his watch) what he could only call his other faces. They were all so different. From age to hair to their dress-sense. Hell, even their personalities were different from face to face.</p><p>Stiles didn’t know how to explain it, but… despite all the differences between all the faces he wore when he dreamt, they still felt like… him in a way. He would see himself do something and just think.<br/>
Hey, I would have done or said the same thing. Maybe in a different way (less arrogantly and probably in a dumber way, I mean jeez what is up with my freaking IQ?!), but still… that’s something I would do too. </p><p>And wasn’t that a scary thought? Or is it reassuring? Eh, let’s call it scarily reassuring. Or maybe reassuringly scary. Cause’ one of the things that scared him the most about this whole thing was the change. And this. The fact that he still would be himself deep down made him less resistant to the change.</p><p>Stiles could hear his dad rummaging around down the hallway. His steps heavy with sleep humming a nonsensical tune. A small smile made its way onto his face. Yeah, there was no chance of him abandoning his dad if he was still himself at the core.</p><p>Stiles got up and started to get ready for the day. Deciding to tell his dad the whole I-have-a-watch-full-of-memories-that-might turn-me-into-I-don’t-know-what in the near future. </p><p>Hell, maybe he should tell Scott as well? He seemed kind of worried lately. Even if he had stopped the god forsaken hovering he had going on for a while a few days ago. If he just explained to his doofus-of-a-best-friend why he couldn’t just chuck the watch away and was going to go through with it (whatever it was) he would understand. Right? </p><p>Just had to explain it clearly. Very, very, very, VERY CLEARLY. Stiles shook his head making a face, thinking about how much of a dumbass his best bud could be sometimes. That is one thing lycanthropy cannot cure. </p><p>Getting out the door Stiles wondered why he had been so mad at his best bud in the first place. In hindsight it really wasn’t that big of a deal and he had been going through the same shit himself. Okay, maybe Stiles had it worse, but still. Stiles hadn’t exactly told Scott how bad it had gotten and Scott wasn't a mindreader.</p><p>Yeah, Stiles really didn’t get why he had been so angry and hurt. Must have been the creeping madness making him emotionally unbalanced. Anyway, Scott might be a dumbass, but he was his dumbass.<br/>
Stiles decided to tell Scott after he’d told his dad.</p><p>Praying Scott wouldn’t make too big a fuss.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Authors note: Here’s the new chappy! Not a lot of action on the real world, but this is still significant to the story. Btw. Next chapter is gonna be from a so far unseen characters pov. Anyway, hope you like the new chapter.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Nogitsune's prey</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The Nogitsune snarled in pure rage.</p><p>He had been so close! So fucking close to breaking that scared little brat! </p><p>He only had been one little push away and he would have been able to wrap up the little worm’s consciousness in a cocoon of it’s own fears and take it’s place as the one in charge.</p><p>It had been so much fun to break him as well. Make him unconsciously shy away from his little friends. Enhancing his feelings of weakness, uselessness, unworthiness and whatever else negative emotions the weak little human was feeling. </p><p>Sending hallucinations and nightmares based off of his worst fears until he wouldn’t know what was real or not. Mimicking the symptoms of his weak little mother’s sickness was a bonus.</p><p>The fear had been so delicious. Seeing him jump at shadows, growing more and more distrustful and resentful of his friends. Seeing him break down in tears under his assault. Oh, it had been so good.</p><p>It only helped that many had started ignoring his poor little prey at an escalating scale.</p><p>But then. Then that FUCKING WATCH had come and RUINED EVERYTHING!!! </p><p>Because of that little hunk of METAL the FEAR was running DRY!!! It was making him LOSE HIS GRIP!!! </p><p>He thought it would be simple enough to make him throw away the watch in fear. But no, apparently whatever being inhabiting the watch was the better option to the brat than just losing himself in his fear and become his meat puppet.</p><p>The Nogitsune started pacing (metaphorically of course, the douche doesn’t have a body) letting out shouts and growls itching to get out into the physical plane so he could tear and rip and DESTROY.</p><p>But he wouldn’t be able to do that would he? Not with that FUCKING WATCH filled with memories he could somehow barely block the most essential parts from in the way. </p><p>That and whatever had been covering the eyes of his prey’s little friends had apparently decided to take a hike meaning his prey had a bunch of worried friends breathing down his neck making sure he was okay.</p><p>The Nogitsune wasn’t sure what was in the watch, but he knew if it was completely released that he would completely lose his hold on the brat.</p><p>Like he would let that happen. This was his prey. Nothing was going to stop him from engulfing the brat in despair and take its body as a meat suit. He just had to make the brat lose the watch.</p><p>The snarl shifted into an ugly shadow of a grin. Filled to the brim with bloodthirst.</p><p>He just had to do what he did best. Fall back and gather his strength. Wasn’t the brat afraid of what he once was and what he could become one more if he kept using the watch? He would make him see. Make him fear.</p><p>Poor little Mieczyslaw has a storm coming his way.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Authors note: Tah dah. Nogisune pov. If you found it a tad unpleasant then good. Kind of meant to do that. He’s supposed to be the antagonist. This is why Stiles has been kind of overdramatic when it comes to his friends so far btw. Just saying in case somebody doesn’t get it. Sooo… bye!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Full disclosure</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stiles grip on Roxanne’s steering wheel tightened nervously. The resolution he made this morning seemed stupider by the minute. Looking out the car window he couldn’t see any sign of his dad being home before him. Stiles wasn’t sure if that helped with his dumbass fears or not.</p><p>Walking inside, he looked around the living room. Yup. No sign of him. Shouldn’t be too long before he gets here though. Sitting down on the couch Stiles. Tried to get the voice in his head that was screaming that this was a bad idea to shut up.</p><p>You know what? Screw it. Screw you. He was Stiles Stilinski. The guy who has gone up against werewolves and other supernatural shit<em>(Oh for Rassilons sake! Enough with calling things with perfectly sound scientific backgrounds that you just don’t know about the so called ‘supernatural’!)</em>.</p><p>Dude. Shut up. Not important right now. Oh great, he had made himself fall out of his own encouragement speech/yelling at his dumbass fears. Thanks a lot past me!</p><p>Stiles rolled his eyes irritably and tried to remember what the hell he had been trying to get at before he got cut off (getting cut off by himself in his own head… yeah, he was totally not crazy. The voice in his head had a good point though.)</p><p>Anyway! What he had been trying to get at was that he had gone up against werewolves and other nasties armed with nothing but his wits, a baseball bat and sarcasm. Hell, even before all that he was the guy that thought it would be fun to drag his best friend out into the woods at night to look for half a body! He was not gonna start being a freaking coward now.</p><p>Sitting up straighter Stiles said to himself.</p><p>“Alright then. No more dilly-dallying. Hang on. Dilly-dallying.”</p><p>Stiles wrinkled his nose.</p><p>“Good lord. The british is back once again. Ugh, I sound like such a prat!”</p><p>Stiles facepalmed. This had started happening in an increasing frequency and he had no bloody clue how to turn it off (even his thoughts had started to become highjacked into britishdom). The only solution he had found so far was simply just talking less. And buggering hell was that hard. He did not, nor would he ever have the word quiet, be qualified as one of his personality traits. Even the memory him, no matter the face would agree on that.</p><p>Stiles heard a car door slam. Oh crap. His dad were here. His dad were here and he had gone into british-mode!</p><p>Stiles looked down on his hands. Maybe he should just go to his room and tell his dad on a late date.</p><p>Stiles gritted his teeth and didn’t move an inch from where he was sat on the couch. This was no excuse! He was not going to let it stop him! This was part of what he was going to tell his dad anyway!</p><p>Stiles looked up as his dad came in through the front door. Well, here we go. Moment of truth. No turning back. Oh my god! Enough! Just do it!</p><p>“Hey dad. Get your ass over here. We need to start the talk-about-my-watch part 2.”</p><p>Sheriff Stilinski looked over at his son who were sitting leaned back on the couch with his arms crossed.</p><p>“Want to try that again son?”</p><p>Noah said with a raised eyebrow. Rolling his eyes Stiles got up and said with flourishing movements.</p><p>“Pardon me father dear. Would you mind placing your posterior on the sofa and proceed henceforth to have a little chat with me regarding our previously discussed topic as there is more to add to the discussion at this current point in time? The topic being the nature of the fobwatch currently in my possession.”</p><p>Damn that felt good. Stiles tried to keep the grin off his face. He had been feeling withdrawal symptoms in the talking department lately.</p><p>Noah couldn’t help laughing at his son’s antics. Humoring him he sat down on the couch. Stiles following soon after.</p><p>“Alright. That’s better. I gotta say. Didn’t expect you to know so many big words.”</p><p>Stiles shot him a playful scowl.</p><p>“Oh, come on dad. You of all people should know I’m not exactly dumb.”</p><p>Smirking Noah shot back.</p><p>“Yeah, but you forget. Since I know you. I know you only put an effort in if it interests you. As you can see from your grades.”</p><p>Noah hadn’t forgotten how Stiles had written the entire history of the male circumcision on the final question of his midterm exam. His economics midterm exams…</p><p>Stiles cleared his throat while scratching his neck awkwardly.</p><p>“Anyway.”</p><p>He said before pulling out the watch.</p><p>“We need to talk about this.”</p><p>Stiles said. Gesturing to the watch while holding it up. Shooting the watch a wry look Noah asked.</p><p>“What more is there to say?”</p><p>Stiles let out a sarcastic laugh. Noah felt a sudden sense of unease rising as he watched his son take a notebook out of his backpack and slam it on the coffee table.</p><p>“Oh. You have no idea. Where do you want to start?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Authors note: Merry Christmas. Hope you found this a fun read so far.</p><p>(PS. No this is not the last chapter.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. A father's acceptance</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Noah pinched the bridge of his nose.</p><p>“So… Let me get this straight. You’ve been having weird dreams that you <span class="u">suspect</span> are actually memories. And in the dreams, you aren’t human but more like a really smart shapeshifter with two hearts and these…”</p><p>He didn’t look up as he gestured to the book lying open on a page filled with illustrations of several different men of various ages.</p><p>“Are drawings that… <span class="u">you</span> drew of all the faces you have had so far in your dreams?”</p><p>Stiles nodded and replied. Feeling a tad sheepish on how unrealistic his story sounded.</p><p>“Yea… <span class="u">yes.</span>”</p><p>Noah sent his son a look that was heavy on the sceptic and low on the belief.</p><p>“On top of that you think you’re turning into a brit… And this is all somehow connected to the pocket watch I found you with.”</p><p>Noah sighted. Scratching his neck, he looked at his son and asked.</p><p>“Son… You know that this sounds really far-fetched?</p><p>Letting out a groan Stiles hid his head in his hands.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>Looking up again he continued tensely.</p><p>“But… you know. Considering we live in a world where freaking werewolves are a thing. I would think that two-hearted-shapeshifters-that-can-turn-into-human-by-using-watches-or-whatever-I-am’s wouldn’t be so far a stretch.”</p><p>Nodding tensely Noah remarked.</p><p>“Good point. But still…”</p><p>Getting up he started pacing agitatedly. Looking back at his son he asked anxiously.</p><p>“Are you sure you aren’t just… imagining it?”</p><p>Stiles head snapped up as he looked at his dad incredulously and replied.</p><p>“Yes! I didn’t just decide to out of nowhere to go tell you that ‘hey guess what <span class="u">my</span> life is a lie, but don’t worry. It’s just my <span class="u">imagination</span>.”</p><p>Feeling his sarcastic side emerge from the shadows he continued.</p><p>“Or do you think this is a joke I decided to pull because you told me I’m adopted? Cuz I’m pretty sure this goes in the ‘not joke material’ box.”</p><p>Stiles was too agitated to notice it as he once again slipped into bitishdom.</p><p>“Or perhaps you think me mad? Is that it? You just think my tiny little ape brain has had too much and got a neural implosion. Whot? Do you think I just need a cuppa and I will be right as rain do you? I am sorry, but this hasn’t got an easy fix! There is so much I don’t know!”</p><p>Stiles got up on his feet as well. His dad standing nailed in his spot looking rather shellshocked at his son’s outburst. Pointing his finger angrily Stiles continued on.</p><p>“What I do know for sure though. You know what that is? I was losing my mind. I had been plagued by nightmares until could barely catch a wink of sleep on a good night. I was starting to hallucinate so badly I was starting to lose the ability to differenate between what was truly real and what wasn’t. On top of that I was a complete emotional wreck! Until it stopped. Because of this watch. I wasn’t even really aware of it until it… activated or whatever the buggering hell happened. And yes. I am fully aware that there is a lot I do not know. That I am looking at an image missing several vital pieces. I can’t even remember my own name for Rassilons sake. But what I do know is that this. Whatever this is. This. Is. REAL.</p><p>Stiles said angrily. Biting out the last words.</p><p>Holding up his hands defensively Noah said placatingly.</p><p>“Okay. Okay. I believe you. It’s real. I… I’m sorry son. It’s not so much that I don’t believe you. As it’s… that I don’t… <span class="u">want</span> to believe it.</p><p>Reigning in his temper Stiles sat back down on the couch and asked softly, his voice bearing a hint of hurt.</p><p>“Why?”</p><p>Noah looked away in shame. Noah in all honesty didn’t want to believe it. Not to be cruel to his son. Not at all. It was just the simple fact that this… if this was true… Sitting back down on the couch Noah answered sadly. A single tear slipping down his cheek.</p><p>“Because it means I could lose you.”</p><p>He could lose his son. His boy. His child could be replaced by some ancient creature and never come back. The energetic little boy he had taught to ride a bike. The boy who had held him together after his wife got sick and died. The awkward, smart boy that couldn’t stand to sit still and didn’t give a damn about his grades. The snarky sarcastic teen who tapped his radio and phonelines in search of adventure and made sure his dad at least ate moderately healthy. The brave teen that had fastly adapted to the supernatural and tried to help his friend and protect his dad from it. His son, Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski just… gone.</p><p>Sighing Stiles pulled his dad into an awkward hug. Stiles told his dad with the previous anger drained from his voice.</p><p>“I don’t wanna lose you either you know.”</p><p>Noah hugged his son back and didn’t let go for a long while. Pulling away Noah got a better hold on his emotions.</p><p>“And you’re sure you can’t just… I don’t know, throw the watch away?”</p><p>He asked tenably. Sighing Stiles ran a hand over his face before replying.</p><p>“Yeah… It’s either gain. Or should I say <span class="u">regain</span>. A different identity or… lose <span class="u">all</span> the screws in my noggin.”</p><p>Stiles voice took a Scottish turn as he said.</p><p>“I’d rather <span class="u">not</span> have my brain turn into pudding… Hang on.”</p><p>Stiles looked up in alarm. Stiles testily tried to speak a few vowels and sentences. Looking over at his dad who looked like he wasn’t sure if he should be worried or laugh at his son’s antics. Stiles said.</p><p>“Well. That’s a new one. Never gone Scottish before. Is it me or do I sound rather cross?”</p><p>Noah shook his head. A little smile forming in the corners of his mouth. Stiles head tilted in befuddlement as he continued.</p><p>“That’s the right word aye? Or is it standoffish?”</p><p>Pursing his lips Stiles concluded.</p><p>“Nevertheless, better than that buggering English accent. I sound like a walloping twat most of the time.”</p><p>Noah let out a chuckle at that. Stiles shot him a playful smirk. The mood lightening a bit. Noah cleared his throat.</p><p>“In all seriousness son. Why didn’t you tell me how bad it was getting?”</p><p>Sighing Stiles replied. His voice shifting back to normal.</p><p>“I don’t know. I… I didn’t wanna worry you. I guess.”</p><p>Running a hand through his hair Stiles continued.</p><p>“It’s just. Whatever’s going on with me. It remined me so much of… of mom. And that… that is one of my worst fears you know?”</p><p>Stiles looked so vulnerable as he said softly.</p><p>“The way we lost her… I… I couldn’t stand the thought of… of you losing me too. Specially in that way.”</p><p>Noah pulled his son into a hug. Trying to lift the mood he said.</p><p>“Lot more hugging than I expected when I came home today.”</p><p>Letting out a wet chuckle Stiles asked teasingly.</p><p>“What? Too much for you?”</p><p>“Weeelll.”</p><p>Noah drawled.</p><p>“I’m the sheriff. People wouldn’t respect me if they thought I go all cuddly-mac-hug-bear in my spare time.”</p><p>“Is that so?”</p><p>Stiles asked. Before he said challengingly.</p><p>“Then let go.”</p><p>Grinning Noah tightened his grip on his son. Before replying.</p><p>“Nope. You are my boy. Now that I know there might be a time limit on how long you are going to be just my boy. You can be damn well sure I’m gonna take every opportunity I can to hug you while you’re still just my son.”</p><p>That made Stiles let out a startled chuckle and smile.  Stiles said. Trying to bring a sense of optimism to the situation.</p><p>“Yeah. Hey, at the very least I know that I won’t be completely gone. From what I could see in the memories so far, I still feel like… myself… in a way. Besides, for all we know it’ll take years before something new… you know… actually happens. Just because I told you about it now doesn’t mean I’ll be gone tomorrow.”</p><p>Noah smiled.</p><p>“Does that mean you want me to let go?”</p><p>Stiles chuckled before replying.</p><p>“Nah, I’m good. We can go back to being macho men tomorrow.”</p><p>Before circling his arms around his dad, hugging him back.</p><p>…</p><p>Laying in his bed that night Stiles felt like a huge rock had been taken off his chest. Closing his eyes with a faint smile he felt (‘scuse the cornyness) hopeful on what tomorrow would bring. He drifted off to sleep in anticipation on what amazingly weird shit he would remember tonight.</p><p>Unaware of the little piece of shit covered in dirty bandages and in need of a trip to the dentist. That were laughing maniacally and rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the fear and chaos he was going to unleash.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Authors note: Phew. This one got long. Um… here’s a new chapter. Hope you liked it. I tried to not go too dark and depressing and write at least a conversation that’d seem at the very least semi-realistic. As I’ve planned the story so far. It won’t be too long until the watch opens, but that may vary as I write. Anyway. Happy new year!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. Fears and revelations.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>
    <em>Battlefields. Screaming twisted voices shouting ‘Exterminate!’. </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“No more. No more. No more.”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>An ancient looking man sitting with flames surrounding him.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“I name you the destroyer of worlds!”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Death. Death. So many deaths flashed before his eyes as a cold female voice says.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“<span class="u">Let us show you …… See who you will become</span>”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>A red spider like lady screaming in despair. Himself coldly watching as she mourned her babies.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“<span class="u">… …… has walked in blood through all of time and space. … …… has many names.”</span></em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>He could feel his anger boiling as he shouted.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“Nobody <span class="u">human</span>! Has <span class="u">anything</span> to say to me <span class="u">today!</span>”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“<span class="u">The imp of the Pandorica.</span>”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>A memory of a huge stone box or some shit popped up. He could hear one of his own voices explain. </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“There was a goblin, or a trickster, or a warrior. A nameless terrible thing. Soaked in the blood of a billion galaxies. The most feared being in all of the cosmos. And nothing could stop it, or hold it, or reason with it. One day it would just drop out of the sky and tear down your world.”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“<span class="u">The shadow of The Valeyard</span>”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>The image of a mean looking dude wearing black robes with white trims for some reason (who the fuck wears freaking robes?) and a stupid looking hat that looked more like a black bald-cap than anything else was showed.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“<span class="u">The Beast of Trenzalore</span>.”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>He saw himself dancing around in glee before golden light started shooting out from him. Destroying a bunch of UFO’s in the process.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Then it all started to overlap as the voice coldly continued listing.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“The Butcher of Skull Moon. The Last Tree of Garsennon. The Destroyer of Skaro. He is … …… of War!” </em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>And all he could see was death and destruction. No matter where he turned. In this moment all he wanted to do was scream.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>…</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>The Nogitsune grinned in triumph. It had taken more out of him than he’d expected to draw out all of the fearful memories. It had completely drained his power reserves and he would have to go dormant for a while after this.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>But oh. This delicious fear made it all worth it! Reaching out the Nogitsune tried to find something spectacular to land a finishing blow. A truly emotional memory caught its attention. The aching loneliness and bone deep weariness made the Nogitsune’s grin widen.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>Ooooh, this was a good one.</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>…</strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>Suddenly the memories cleared and he found himself standing on a snowy battlefield. Three people were standing in front of him. He felt old and tired as he told them.</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <em>“A life this long, do you understand what it is? It’s a battlefield, like this one, and it’s empty. Because everyone else has fallen.”</em>
  </strong>
</p><p>…</p><p>As the Nogitsune fell dormant, satisfied at a job well done. As Stiles woke up screaming, crying and flailing. The word ‘fallen’ echoing in his ears.</p><p>Spotting the watch still hanging from his neck Stiles ripped it off in panic. His head screaming, FUCK NO! He didn’t want that thing anywhere <span class="u">near</span> him! Stiles was about to smash it against the wall fully intent on destroying whatever DEMON that lived in there. When a hand around his wrist stopped him. Looking up his panic filled eyes met with the concerned ones of his dad.</p><p>“Son. What’s going on?”</p><p>His dad asked calmly. Stiles opened his mouth, but no words came out. After a while Stiles started making wild gestures and managed to stutter out.</p><p>“I… It…Bu… Kil… So mu…”</p><p>Yeah, that’s helpful. Stiles head was so messed up right now that he had no idea how to describe the horrifying, bone chilling nightmare he’d just been through. Stiles shuddered before wrapping his arms tightly around himself as if to keep himself from falling apart. Oh God he couldn’t breathe.</p><p>“Okay, Stiles. Just breathe. Try to calm down a little. Nothing good will come out of you panicking.”</p><p>His dad said in a soothing tone. Listening to his dad’s calm voice made Stiles breathing slowly even out.</p><p>“You good?”</p><p>His dad asked him before sitting down next to him on the bed. If Stiles had felt more like himself, he would have bit back sarcastically ‘Does it freaking look like I’m good?’. As it was, he just scoffed weakly before shakily shaking his head. Sighing Noah asked his son.</p><p>“You wanna tell me why not son?”</p><p>Trying to keep his breathing steady Stiles looked at his dad in fear.</p><p>“Cause…”</p><p>Stiles looked away and closed his eyes and sighing in resignment. Guess he was talking about this shit. Before continuing slowly.</p><p>“Cause I don’t think whoever I used to be was good.”</p><p><em>Wow Stiles. Amazing description there</em>. Stiles commented sarcastically to himself at his spectacular way with words.</p><p>Crossing his arms his dad asked him sternly.</p><p>“And why not?”</p><p>Stiles looked up at him in confusion. Wha…What was up with his tone?</p><p>“Cause of the memories I saw tonight. Wh… why are you sounding all offended?”</p><p>Sending him a stern look Noah told him.</p><p>“Damn right I’m getting offended. If what you have figured out so far is right then that’s <span class="u">my son</span> that you’re calling not good.”</p><p>Stiles let out a startled chuckle at that. His heavy mood lifting considerably. Trust his dad to get him to lighten up on the rare occasions he goes all doom and gloom. Shaking his head Stiles said.</p><p>“Yeah, you’re right my bad. It’s just…”</p><p>Stiles’s grip on the watch tightened. Now that he’d calmed down a bit, he wasn’t sure if he should throw it away anymore. Yes, the shit he saw tonight was of someone he could no doubt call an ancient demon of destruction.</p><p>But now that he’d calmed down, he could also remember other things. The earlier memories. How he’d laughed and joked with someone. How he had desperately tried to save someone. How he was a smartass that liked to stick his nose into other people’s business. How that inner curiosity he could always feel that urged him to see, to explore, to run followed him every step of the way. Even now.</p><p>Most of all Stiles could remember the feelings he’d felt in those absolutely horrifying memories. The desperation, the guilt, the determination, the devastation, the exhaustion. In other words… Not what a bloodthirsty maniacal monster would feel. In Stiles’s opinion anyway.</p><p>He was pretty sure that kind of psycopath would give out similar vibes as that douche Peter. Peter was bloodthirsty and seemed so get a sick kind of joy of killing/hurting/torturing someone. Not feel… you know guilty. Stiles sighed heavily before continuing.</p><p>“The memories tonight. It was like… like somebody had grabbed everything bad that I’d done and shoved them in my face.”</p><p>Raising his eyebrow in suspicion. His dad asked him.</p><p>“Are you sure somebody didn’t?”</p><p>Stiles head whipped around to look at his dad.</p><p>“What… What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>He asked haltingly. His dad shrugged his shoulders and answered.</p><p>“Nothing much. You know. Just that you told me not long ago that before the watch started doing it’s hocus pocus that you’d been having bad dreams that went over everything you feared and hated about yourself… See a pattern?”</p><p>Stiles looked at his dad in shock. That… that gave a surprising amount of sense. Stiles started to feel angry and scared. Surprising combination, but what can ya do? This was both scary and enraging. Something was messing with <span class="u">his head</span>!</p><p>“So, you’re saying what? That whatever’s been plaguing me has got enough strength to break into the watch-dreams as well now?”</p><p>Stiles asked. He really hoped that was not the case. His dad shrugged before saying.</p><p>“Hm. Could be. That or maybe it’s its last hurrah before giving up.”</p><p>Stiles snorted. Yeah, like the asshat that had stuck around for so long would just give up.</p><p>“You know. For some reason I highly doubt that.”</p><p>He said sarcastically trying to cover up his rising emotions.</p><p>“That would be way too easy. Things are never that easy. Whatever this son of a bitch is, don’t seem like someone who will just go ‘fuck this shit I’m out’ before packing their stuff and leaving.”</p><p>Stiles had a looming suspicion he’d notice when the little shit was really gone anyway. Now that he was aware of the intruder, he could almost feel it slumbering in the back of his head.</p><p>Noah pulled his son that was looking more distressed by the minute into a hug. And could you blame him? The was something in his HEAD!</p><p>“I thought we’d agreed to quit the mushy hugging stuff and be manly men today?”</p><p>Stiles mumbled against his shoulders. Chuckling lowly his dad tightened his grip and replied with a low voice.</p><p>“Screw it. My son’s going through a though time and needs a hug today. Not tomorrow or whenever it fits for our manliness. I’m gonna be a damn cuddly teddy bear whenever I damn well please.”</p><p>This made Stiles quirk a smile. After a long while Stiles managed to regain his composure and pulled back from the hug. Resting a hand on his shoulder his dad said.</p><p>“Son… how bout we just see how it goes?”</p><p>Stiles sent him a doubtful look.</p><p>“I mean. There’s not a lot we can actually do you know?”</p><p>Stiles scratched his neck before suggesting unsurely.</p><p>“I guess? I could ask Deaton? Maybe?”</p><p>He had a nagging feeling that there was jack shit Deaton could do, but hey. Could be just a feeling. Not to mention that Deaton had a big part in how he’d gotten into this mess in the first place… Yeah Stiles wasn’t the <span class="u">least</span> bit resentful for <span class="u">that,</span> thank you very much. Anywho.</p><p>“How about we take a day? See what happens and if you have another nightmare of a similar kind… Then we can run to the veterinarian druid in panic. Sound good?”</p><p>His dad asked him calmly. As always, the voice of reason. Unless when he wasn’t. Then Stiles was the voice of reason. For his dad and his friends. Stiles was always the one to call them out on the dumb shit his friends (especially Scott) were planning. Or he was in on it (or the one who came up with it) and his dad would step in to call them all out on their bullshit. It varied.</p><p>Nodding at his dad’s suggestion Stiles said.</p><p>“Yeah, that… that sounds good.”</p><p>Sending his dad a playful glare Stiles said.</p><p>“Now get out of my room before I start changing out of my PJ’s. We should get ready in time to eat a proper breakfast.”</p><p>They both got up from his bed (and boy doesn’t that sound just wrong) and tried to recover from their chick-flick moment. Clearing his throat Stiles pointed his finger at his dad threatingly and said.</p><p>“And I mean proper. None of that sugary cereal crap.”</p><p>Smirking his dad replied playfully as he left the room.</p><p>“I make no promises.”</p><p>Shaking his head Stiles fastened the fob-watch back around his neck and started to get ready for the day. Unbeknownst to him of the signal that’d been emitting from it since the dreams beginning had given out a strong pulse in the midst of his nightmares.</p><p>And he definitely had no idea that someone had caught it. Someone who was desperately looking for The Doctor. And they were coming.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Authors note: Well then… Here ya go. Damn long chapter. Hope you like it.rs note: Well then… Here ya go. Damn long chapter. Hope you like it.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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